Blood Ties

Sunlight glinted off of the plain, unassuming amulet as it hung from Morwyn's hand on a fine silver chain. It was nothing more than a round disk, very light and unmarked, though it was finely polished and had just a hint of a bluish tint. She looked up to Eronir as the elf closed the box and bowed his head solemnly to her. His eyes fell to the little dragon napping on her lap and he smiled warmly.

“I always enjoy the Hatching,” he mused, half to himself. “It's peculiar to think that such a tiny creature will grow to be one of the fiercest in the world, isn't it?”

Morwyn tenderly stroked one finger down the length of the dragonling's slender neck. The miniature iridescent scales and bone-white spines captivated her momentarily before she remembered that there were other beings in the world besides her new companion. The strength of her affection, which she surmised was an effect of the dragon-bond, nearly took her breath away. After a brief moment she managed to focus her scattered thoughts and lifted up the pendant to inspect it again.

“What is this?” she asked curiously. “I don't think I've ever seen metal like this before. And what does it mean?”

Eronir chuckled as he slipped the hasp of a small lock through the latch of the box he carried and tucked it beneath his arm.

“I'll leave that to Argoth to explain. There are some things that are better shared between those who have bonded with a dragon.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze before lowering his voice to hardly above a whisper. “This little one couldn't have asked for a better companion. I'm proud of you, my friend. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to celebrate with Yvonne before you're all whisked away.”

“Whisked away?” Morwyn asked, her brows knitted as she glanced between Eronir and Argoth. When she looked back to the elf he had already crossed half the distance to where Yvonne and her dragon were frolicking at the feet of the hatchling's proud mother. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Aye,” the big orc said with a toothy grin that made Morwyn nervous. “We've got a few minutes before this rabble clears out and you get to take your first flight.”

Morwyn gave the man an incredulous look and placed her arms protectively around her little dragonling. The orc chuckled and nodded to Shivara, who shook her wings and stretched her huge body with her tail flicking in anticipation. She looked all the more like a cat than a reptile for the motion, albeit a monstrously large cat with scales and spines and black lightning for breath.

“Don't you worry, ain't no one in the world that'll take better care of you both than she will. You'll understand soon enough.”

Indeed, Shivara purred in her mind. No harm will come to either of you while you are in my care... and I will not fly as quickly as I did at our first introduction.

Morwyn swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded shakily. She perked up as her dragon stirred on her lap and stretched her wings, showing her serrated teeth as she yawned wide. The dragon shivered from her nose to the tip of her tail and sat back on her haunches with her wings tucked against her sides. She looked up at Morwyn with wide, curious eyes.

Mama.

The smile returned to Morwyn's face at the little voice but it was tempered by anxiety. She'd just met this little creature that had captured her heart and soul. How could she be expected to part from her so soon? She trusted that Argoth wouldn't needlessly endanger her, and by extension trusted Shivara as well despite not knowing much at all about the black dragon, yet she couldn't help the fear gnawing at her stomach. After a brief moment of consideration, she let out a tense sigh.

“Alright, I suppose I don't have a choice but to follow your lead... Who will watch her while we're gone?”

Shivara rumbled deeply, her tongue flicking out between her teeth as she shook her head side to side. Was she... laughing?

Oh no, little lady. She will join us. It is important that you share your first flight.

“Fuck,” Morwyn muttered under her breath.

Fuck, said a tiny voice in her mind.

Oh gods. No, don't repeat that!

“Sorry, I'm a bit scattered right now,” Morwyn admitted aloud to Argoth and Shivara. “This is a lot to take in all at once. How much time do we have before we leave? I'd like to introduce her to-”

Morwyn was cut off by an impact to her back that nearly drove the wind from her lungs as Hazel leapt upon her from behind, hugging her around the neck as the halfling squealed with joy. She released her stranglehold on Morwyn and smoothed out her dress, clearing her throat as she composed herself. Shivara's looming presence didn't seem to bother Hazel in the slightest, though she did give the black dragon a respectful curtsy.

“I can't believe how long they made us wait to come see you! A moment longer and I might have exploded,” she said, grinning from ear to ear as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “May I see the little one? I've been dying to get a closer look. I could hardly see a thing from down there!”

Morwyn chuckled and leaned back with the palms of her hands on the sand to give Hazel a good look at the little creature perched on her lap. The halfling drew in a sharp breath and knelt beside her.

“Oh my... aren't you just the prettiest thing I've ever seen,” Hazel crooned softly. She raised a hand then hesitated as the dragonling recoiled awkwardly in confusion. Hazel looked to Morwyn as if asking permission, her eyes wide with wonder. Morwyn nodded, her heart soaring to see how quickly Hazel had become smitten with the creature.

It's alright, little one, she thought to her dragon. This is Hazel. I love her very much. You'll love her too, believe me.

The dragonling stared up at Morwyn for a long moment then turned to face Hazel, her little pink tongue testing the air several times as she inched closer to inspect the newcomer. Hazel held her breath as the little beast sniffed her hand delicately. Apparently satisfied, she relaxed her tense little body and nuzzled her snout against Hazel's palm.

Mama?

Now that she was getting somewhat used to the mental communication- in no small part due to her many conversations with Rennock and now with Shivara- Morwyn recognized the difference between a private thought and one meant for all those nearby. She laughed aloud as Hazel's eyebrows shot skyward, her mouth hanging open as she stared at the dragonling.

“Did it just... speak to me in my mind?” the halfling whispered, placing her free hand on Morwyn's shoulder for support as she seemed to grow faint. “And did it just say what I think it did?”

“Yes, darling,” Morwyn giggled as she stroked a hand over the little dragon's slender neck and scratched between her wings. “I think she likes you.”

“By the gods,” Hazel whispered reverently. She rubbed her thumb along the dragonling's jaw and gently scratched behind her head, prompting a satisfied grumble in response as the hatchling leaned into the touch. “I'm flattered, but why did she call me mama? You're the one that hatched her.”

Argoth answered for her, which was good, because Morwyn had absolutely no idea.

“The bond with a dragon runs deep,” the orc grumbled softly, almost nostalgically, as he laid a hand on the side of Shivara's mighty jaw. “She feels that bond with Morwyn in her very soul, and because of that she can feel the bond that you two share as well. It's not quite the same, but not so different that she can't understand it. Two different kinds of love but love all the same.”

Touched by the heartfelt revelation and stung by the note of sorrow she detected in Argoth's tone, Morwyn decided against prying for more information. She lifted the dragonling from her lap and set her gingerly in Hazel's outstretched arms, making sure that her wings and tail weren't pinched or folded at an awkward angle. Morwyn rose to her feet with a soft groan and stretched her legs, not having dared to move for long minutes lest she disturb the hatchling's brief nap. Hazel grinned up at her with pride and nuzzled her nose against the dragon's neck.

“That's right, beautiful,” she whispered lovingly. “I'll be your mama too. Now that I've seen you, I can't let Morwyn have you all to herself. I'll share you with her on occasion... if she behaves.”

Shivara let out a low rumble, more a purr of satisfaction than a laugh this time.

I like this one, she said privately to Morwyn. You may keep her.

Morwyn turned to meet the black dragon's gaze, about to reply haughtily that she didn't need her permission, but thought better of it as Shivara's lips pulled back to reveal teeth the size of longswords.

“Hate to interrupt the moment,” Argoth cut in, cracking his neck and tucking his thumbs into his sash, “but we've got some business to attend to.”

“We're... going on our first flight,” Morwyn explained hesitantly, unsure of how the halfling would respond. Hazel's face pinched in concern before Argoth reassured her.

“Won't be goin' too far. Don't worry, we'll bring 'em back in good health.”

“You'd better,” Hazel replied coolly as she handed the dragonling back to Morwyn and rose to her feet, wagging a finger of warning up at the towering orc. “If I find one scratch on either one of them I'll have your head on a platter.”

“On my honor,” Argoth laughed, beckoning Morwyn to follow him. He climbed up Shivara's forelimb and leapt from her shoulder onto the base of her neck with practiced ease, patting the space behind him with one hand. “C'mon now, let's get to it. Mind the spines and try not to slip on her scales.”

Morwyn quickly tucked the pendant that she'd forgotten was wrapped around her knuckles into her pocket and brushed her thumb across Hazel's cheek.

“Meet you at home when we're finished?” she asked softly.

“Oh, I don't think so,” Hazel replied with an playful smile. She shifted a haversack from her side to the front and opened it, revealing neatly packed bundles of food and a small bottle of wine. “I'll be waiting right here until you return. I thought we'd have a picnic after the ceremony. Now we have even more to celebrate than I thought. Here, take this with you. She's sure to be hungry soon! I hope dragons like salted pork.”

Hazel slipped one of the bundles into Morwyn's pocket and shooed her away.

“Go, go! Don't let me keep you!”

An awkward and fumbling moment later, Morwyn found herself straddled atop the neck of a dragon for the first time with her hatchling clutched tightly to her chest. She'd ridden horse a number of times before but was unconvinced that she had the strength to hold to such a creature for longer than a few minutes. Shivara's neck was slim compared to some of the other dragons but was still quite large and, lacking a saddle, seemed like an extremely precarious place to find oneself in motion let alone in the sky. She gritted her teeth and held on to the spike between herself and Argoth with a white-knuckled grip.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked nervously, tucking her protesting hatchling even tighter against her chest with her right arm. “I don't feel very secure...”

Do not worry, Shivara said in a soothing tone. No one may ride a dragon without their permission, but it is quite safe to do so if you have it. Observe.

A tingling sensation settled over Morwyn that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. It felt as if a heavy, invisible blanket was suddenly draped over her. She recognized the signature of magic but it was altogether different from the spells she'd seen Rennock cast or that which she'd wielded herself. Lifting one leg experimentally, she discovered that it took quite an immense effort to raise it even slightly.

“Bit of a crutch if you ask me. Better safe than sorry, aye?” Argoth grumbled in amusement, giving her a smile over his shoulder. “You ready?”

Morwyn cautiously set her dragonling down on all fours between her knees then tried to lift her again. The wriggling little beast squeaked in defiance but appeared to be stuck fast, so Morwyn instead stroked her gently until she settled down on her belly and quit squirming.

“Ready as I'll ever be,” she muttered, still a bit queasy at the thought of flying but tentatively excited as well. Memories of the Narrows flashed in her mind but she dismissed them quickly. Surely they wouldn't have a tradition like the first flight if it wasn't safe-

All thought fled from her mind and Morwyn gripped the spine in front of her for dear life as Shivara stood smoothly and began to gallop down the shoreline with her wings tucked in close. The other adult dragons, likewise carrying those newly bonded to their offspring as well as their own riders, fell in line behind her one by one. The fear and adrenaline that pumped through Morwyn's veins soon turned to elation as they passed by Yvonne mounted atop the copper dragon with her hatchling firmly in hand. The elf waved enthusiastically at them as her mount, easily half the size of Shivara, struggled to keep up with the black dragon's long strides. It wasn't long before they left the lake shore and strode easily along the flat ground atop the plateau.

Morwyn glanced down to check on her own companion and was delighted to see her spindly neck craned as high as it would go, her slender silver head swaying from side to side as the dragonling did her best to survey the world around them. Curiosity and wonder emanated from the little creature through their bond.

“This isn't so bad,” Morwyn called to Argoth over the rushing wind caused by Shivara's gradually increasing speed. The orc merely laughed in response- somewhat maniacally, Morwyn thought- and raised one hand to point ahead to where the ground before them rose like a ramp into the sky. It looked to be one half of an ancient stone arch that had collapsed in the middle. Morwyn's gut lurched as Shivara, unhindered by the steep incline, somehow continued to gain speed as she raced up the rapidly narrowing pathway of red stone.

Spoke too soon, Morwyn thought as she clenched her teeth and clung to Shivara's spine, hunched over her dragonling as she braced for what was to come.

Mama? The dragonling's voice in her mind, though still limited to a single word, was laced with uncomprehending apprehension.

Morwyn didn't have the time to form another thought to console her little companion before Shivara gripped the top of the broken arch with her hind legs and leapt out into the open air. For a brief and terrifying moment Morwyn felt even more weightless than she had when using the Featherlight scroll, then the black dragon spread her great wings wide and began a gentle glide. They soared through the air as smoothly as a fish swimming through water.

A relieved laugh escaped Morwyn as she slowly relaxed her death grip on the spine as her braid whipped through the air behind her. Her apprehension and building nausea fled in an instant and she marveled at both the view of the landscape below and at the movement of the black dragon beneath her. Shivara's leathery wings twitched and minutely changed angles to adjust to air currents while her long neck and tail moved in unison to provide counterbalance. It was beautiful to behold something so naturally at ease in the sky. She made even birds look absolutely graceless in comparison.

Morwyn craned her neck to look over her shoulder as the other dragons followed their lead. They each broke off in different directions and spread out through the sky, growing smaller and smaller in the distance as Shivara began to flap her wings and gain altitude. Though gentle in comparison to the acrobatic maneuvers she'd seen the dragons perform in her few short weeks at the Vale, Morwyn couldn't help but feel impressed by the raw power of each downward thrust. Suddenly curious as to where they were headed, Morwyn leaned to one side to look past Argoth's bulk. They were on a direct course toward one of the large caves in the side of the valley's stone wall.

Knowing it would be a futile effort to try and make herself heard over the roaring wind of their flight, Morwyn instead stroked one hand down the spines along her hatchling's back and grinned.

Are you having fun, little one?

Fun! The brief response was full of pure and uncomplicated joy.

Their entertainment was all too short-lived as Shivara flared her wings and flapped hard several times, arresting their momentum before coming to a smooth landing on a shelf of stone protruding from the mouth of the cave. Though it was a dizzying distance to the valley below, Morwyn found that it no longer gave her the anxiety that would have crippled her mere minutes prior. Their brief flight had awoken something in her that she now yearned for, something she'd never known she'd needed in her life. Something that dispelled the perfectly reasonable and rational fear of heights she'd held in the past.

It was the ultimate freedom of flight. It felt as natural as breathing.

Still giddy with adrenaline, Morwyn's hands and legs shook when the weight of Shivara's magic lifted from her body. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply to try and calm her racing pulse for a moment as she steadied herself.

“Enjoyed yourself, did you? Ain't nothin' in the world like it.” Argoth's voice echoed through the cave as he spoke. Morwyn's eyes fluttered open and she couldn't help but grin at the orc so hard that her face hurt.

“I... understand,” she replied, still a bit out of breath. “I get it now. Why you were laughing when you, Trux, and I were falling off the mountain together. You live for this, don't you?”

“That I do,” he said proudly before leaping from Shivara's neck to land with a heavy thud on the stone floor of the cavern.

“I can see why,” Morwyn huffed before handing her dragonling down to him. “You're still a mad old bastard, but by the gods, I'll be just as mad before long.”

Argoth has an endearing enthusiasm for our time together, Shivara said, followed by a rumbling, throaty laugh. I cannot say that I mind. I enjoy it just as much myself.

“Which brings us to the point of this little expedition.” Argoth raised a hand to help Morwyn descend from Shivara's back, chuckling as she wobbled on unsteady legs for a moment. “We like a bit of privacy to explain the dragon-bond. Not that it needs kept secret from the others, but as I said before, it's... different. Very personal.”

And we have other things to discuss which are, indeed, very private.

Shivara's suddenly grave tone made goosebumps prickle along Morwyn's arms. The black dragon settled herself down on her belly, blocking the path further into the cavern as she stretched from one end to the other with no room to spare. Argoth set her hatchling on the ground and watched her romp excitedly for a moment before gesturing for Morwyn to take a seat on a stone bench carved into the cave wall nearby.

“So, what exactly have I gotten myself into?” Morwyn asked softly, ever watchful that her excited hatchling didn't stray too close to the entrance.

“First things first. Let's see that amulet of yours,” Argoth prompted. Morwyn reached into her pocket and, feeling the bundle of dried meat that Hazel had given her, took that out first and removed the string. She tossed the entire thing to her dragon and smiled as the little beast sniffed her way to it like a bloodhound before tearing it apart with vicious, if quite inaccurate, little bites. Morwyn retrieved the amulet next and dangled it from her fingers again.

“Mithral,” Argoth explained, his voice somber. “Each amulet given to the bonded is a match for their dragon. It's a totem of sorts, a token of the bond you now share. More importantly it strengthens the connection over time. No idea how the magic works, but it does. Hold it out to her.”

Having cooled down from her earlier excitement, Morwyn did as instructed with quiet intrigue. Her dragonling, so engrossed in battling the slices of dried meat, immediately perked up and locked her gaze on the medallion. Her head tilted sideways like a curious cat and she quickly bounded over before slowing her final approach. She sniffed at the medallion, licked it once, then touched the tip of her snout to the cool metal. Morwyn's brow raised in astonishment as the medallion began to glow with a soft silver light and began to melt.

The liquid metal, however, did not splatter to the ground, but reformed itself before her eyes into the shape of a crescent moon embossed with strange runes that she didn't understand. When the flowing mithril ceased its movement the dragonling bobbed her head several times and looked up at Morwyn expectantly, letting out a pleased trill before jumping onto her lap and nuzzling into her stomach. Morwyn looked over to Argoth with wide eyes, her breath caught in her throat.

Appropriate, given your patron, Shivara murmured.

Though she had no idea how Shivara knew of her connection to the Moonmother, it gave Morwyn a measure of comfort to know that the dragon seemed to approve. She slowly lifted the chain of the necklace over her head and pulled her braid free. She held the new medallion delicately with both hands and marveled at the sensation it brought to her fingertips. It rivaled the adoration she felt when touching her dragon, if somewhat muted, and hummed with a soft power she didn't comprehend. She tucked it into her shirt to hang beside the milky white pendant that Rennock had given her for protection against prying eyes.

“I'm no expert at magic by any means, but I can feel just how important this is.”

“No amount of words can do it justice,” Argoth replied with a solemn nod. “In time you'll come to know it in a way that Rennock himself couldn't explain.”

The orc reached beneath his black, gold-trimmed tunic and tugged at a leather thong around his thick neck, retrieving a medallion of jet black stone in the shape of a teardrop that immediately reminded Morwyn of the spirit stone of the giants. Argoth rubbed it between his fingers like a touchstone for a moment, tension evident in his shoulders as he stared down at it.

“Is that... Are you and Shivara..?” Morwyn began hesitantly, unsure of how to finish the thought in light of what Eronir had told her. Argoth turned to the black dragon and gave her a sad smile before he replied.

“A long time ago I bonded with a hatchlin' just as you have today. Shivara's first and only egg, in fact. To keep from diggin' a knife into old wounds I'll spare you the details, but my dragon- Arjax was his name- died young. Lost him in a fight against rocs. Damned big birds, just about the only beasts in the world that can threaten a dragon.”

Shivara let out a low keening sound that carried such bitter sorrow that tears sprang unbidden to Morwyn's eyes. Fighting to keep them from falling, she put one hand over her mouth and the other protectively on top of her own dragon's back.

“Argoth, Shivara... I'm so sorry...” she whispered. Many mysteries involving her friend clicked into place all at once. Her bond was brand new, not yet two hours old, but her heart ached at the pain of his loss in a way she never could have felt before. Silence dragged on for a long, uncomfortable moment. For a time the only thing Morwyn could hear was the beating of her own heart and the echo of the black dragon's mourning.

We tell you these things not to hurt you, but to help you understand that you and the child are irrevocably entwined. Even death cannot part you. In our grief, Argoth and I formed a bond as well- not a new one, but an extension of that which we both held with Arjax. Nurture this bond, daughter of winter and blood. It is of the utmost importance.

Shivara's words froze Morwyn's blood in her veins. Confusion gave way to panic as she slowly turned to meet the dragon's unwavering, penetrating gaze.

“I... how did you...”

The black dragon's brow ridge lifted on one side, an uncannily human expression of cool appraisal. She huffed and black smoke wafted from her nostrils.

You did not think you could hide your nature from me, did you?